The Snow Lord
by DancingSmurf
Summary: Remember when Robb told Jon that he couldn't be Lord of Winterfell because he was a bastard? This is that story as told by multiple characters. A prologue by Sansa. A chapter by Jon. A chapter by Robb and a wrap-up chapter told by Catelyn. COMPLETE
1. The Snow Lord: Part One

**Prologue**

Sansa

Sansa's morning was doing just fine. Then the noise started. She should've been used to it by now. The noise would always start after the Starks broke their fast in the Great Hall of Winterfell. Her brother Robb would leave with Jon and Theon and head towards the yard to play at swords. Bran would sometimes be allowed to go with them but only if he asked his father. Lady Catelyn would never allow him to join in. Only watch. On occasions, Arya would try to sneak out with the group but could never escape the ever watching eye of Septa Mordane. After the morning fast, Sansa and Arya and all the other ladies at court would go into the Maid's Tower and play at a different sort of sword: neddlework. At that particular summer morning, Sansa was finishing up a kerchief that showed the silver trout of House Tully, her mother's house.

"Oh Sansa," exclaimed Jeyne Poole," You did such a marvellous job!" Jeyne had been her best friend since she could remember.

"I know," replied Sansa without so much of an attempt at humility. She took pride at her needlework.

"Now Sansa darling, a proper lady would have replied with a thank you," said Septa Mordane. The septa would walk around the room and check on the girls work. Sansa replied with a small, courteous apology. The septa continued to walk around the room and stopped beside Arya's stool. Sansa could see that her sister was staring out the small window that was by her stool. Sansa and her little birds started to giggle at the scene. The laughter brought Arya back to the world.

"Now child, what in the name of the Seven is more important than your needlework," asked Septa Mordane, in an exsasparted tone.

"I was just watching the boys-" started Arya.

"-playing with swords when you should be attempting something that can be called stitchery," finished Septa Mordane. She picked up the pallet from Arya's lap. It was supposed to be a blue kerchief but was rather a blue mess. Sansa couldn't help but smirk at the uneveness of the stitches. As a down trodden Arya's eyes returned to her work Beth, the master at arms daughter, turned to Sansa and said something clever. Sansa mumbled a polite reponse and returned back to her work. As she finished the final stitch, she found herself inexplicably wondering what her sister saw in the noise that would make Sansa annoyed.


	2. The Snow Lord: Part Two

Jon

For reasons that eluded him, Jon would always be the first to awaken at Winterfell. _Well, not the first_ , he thought to himself. Jon would always go down to the kitchens and help the cook, Gage, prepare breakfast for the Stark family. He wasn't really that much of a cook so Gage would have him fetch the ingredients for the meal. Jon always made sure not to eat anything so he could eat with everybody else. As he dutifully fetched this and fetched that for Gage light began to enter through the windows of kitchen. Soon after, Jon left to go back to his room and dress appropriately for the morning meal. Jon's room was on the same floor as Robb's and Sansa's. Lord and Lady Stark's room and chambers were on the floor above while Arya's, Bran's, and Theon's were on the floor below. As Jon put on his clothes, he mentally prepared himself for the morning fast. Even after 12 years he never felt at home at Winterfell. He couldn't never really blame Lady Catelyn for his uneasiness. Jon constantly seeked her approval, even if he didn't realize it. But try as he might, her icy blue eyes were full of contempt for him. Jon ran into Arya and Bran on his way to the Great Hall. They waited for him to catch up and when he did Arya said," You know, it's not fair that you get to play with swords just because your a boy". Jon smiled and said," If you want Robb to beat your arse bloody then be my guest."

Arya squinted at Jon and said," Yeah right, I bet l could beat Robb, you, and even Theon, if I wanted to." At that Jon began to laugh. Bran began to giggle until Arya whacked him in the back of his head. Jon smiled and thought that maybe today would be a great day.


	3. The Snow Lord: Part Three

Robb

With out a doubt the morning was Robb's favorite part of the day. The best part of the morning was the morning fast. Gage, the cook, always cooked the best meals. Robb always enjoyed the hushed talks he'd have with Jon and Theon. Robb was already seated and talking to Theon about different types of arrowheads when Jon, Arya, and Bran came into thr Great Hall of Winterfell. Robb could see that they all had the faint traces of a smile on their faces. Jon took his place by Robb's left. The usually sullen boy seemed really pleased with himself today.

"Hey Jon," asked Robb eagerly," are you ready to practice swords after fast?"

Jon looked at him and with a powerful confidence replied," I'm ready to beat you today."

Robb heard Theon snicker behind him and say," I'd like to see that Snow."

That quickly returned Jon to his perpetual state of sulleness. Robb could also see that his parents were at their seats at the head of the table. Lord Eddard was busy talking to one of his soldiers he invited but Lady Stark's eyes were on the children. Robb knew how uncormfortable Jon and his mother were around each other but never really understood what made his loving mother's heart turn cold around Jon. As usual though, Robb was the first to finish his breakfast. Not one for conversation, he impatiently waited for Theon and his brothers to finish their meals.

After what seemed like an eternity, Robb got permission from Lord Stark to go out and practice with Jon, Theon, and Bran. As he left the hall, he noticed Septa Mordane catch Arya as she tried to leave with the boys. Robb didn't really get where his little sister got off but he admired her perseverance.

Heading towards the armory, Robb noticed that Ser Rodrik, the master-at-arms, wasn't in his usual spot. Come to think of it, he wasn't at breakfast either. Robb did notice that Jory, Rodrik's nephew, was talking to the armory's blacksmith, Mikken.

Jory's conversation with Mikken stopped as soon as he saw the lordlings approach. As Mikken got them tourney swords, Jory started a conversation.

"What's the little princes of Winterfell doing on a fine summer day like this?"

Robb looked up at him and with a smile on his face replied," I'm gonna train with Jon and beat him at swords, but I don't see Ser Rodrik anywhere."

Jory sighed and said," I hate to disappoint little lord, but my uncle won't be able to help train you today. He sprained his ankle getting off his horse early this morning. Looks lije you'll have to train yourselves today."

This was perhaps the best news Robb had heard.

"Alright Jory thanks," Robb said trying his best to keep his face straight.

The group got the dull tourney blades from Mikken and left the armory for a more sucluded part of they main yard.

"So what do you want to do today," asked Robb.

Theon dropped his tourney sword in the dirt and said," I'm thinking of teaching Bran here how to shoot a bow. He seems to have some talent."

Jon looked at him and said," Well, I was hoping to practice _some_ with a sword today."

"Well I guess I'll stay here with you while Theon and Bran go practice archery."

Robb noticed how everyone seemed pleased with the decision. As Theon left with Bran, Robb pulled his sword out of the ground and faced Jon with a smile.

"Do you want to play that game," he asked and was pleased when Jon said yes.

Sometimes when he and Jon practiced swords, they would pretend that they were famous heroes and knights of old.

"I'm Ageon the Conqueror!"

"I'm Aemon the Dragonknight!"

They fought with their dull weapons until Jon deftly knocked Robb's sword out of his hand.

"I'm Florian the Fool!"

"I'm Ryam Redwyne!"

This round lasted longer than the first. Robb barely noticed the small group of washerwomen who sat and watched the two boys spar at each other. As with the last round, Jon managed to knock Robb's sword out of his hand. Robb saw how he did it now. Next round.

"I'm King Daeron!"

"I'm Ser Duncan the Tall!"

This round went even longer than the second. Over time, Robb and Jon beat each other down with swords and eventually words. Insults went flying back and forth between the two boys. At random times in the melee, Robb and Jon would call out different names of kings, heroes, and knights as if saying their names would summon more strength to their swords.

The sword's song rang gloriously in the morning air only interrupted by ocassional name drops and insults.

"The Knight of Duskendale," yelled Robb," Nice swordsmanship, it's a wonder how you can cut butter!"

"The Lord of Winterfell," returned Jon raising his sword for a upward strike. "Well at least I can cut butter!"

"I'll be Lord of Winterfell," Robb saw his opening. He suddenly dropped his sword and lunged at Jon's chest to avoid his blow," You can't be it because your a bastard!"

Robb rammed his body into Jon's chest. Jon went in the air and fell in the mud. Before Robb could celebrate his victory he noticed the hurt in Jon's face. Robb suddenly realized the words he had said.

"Oh Jon," he began," I didn't mean-"

Jon got up and ran tears falling as he went. Robb picked up his sword and looked around. Already the washerwomen were leaving. He could see the looks in the faces.

Robb left the yard. He needed to find Jon.


	4. The Snow Lord: Part Four

Catelyn

The fast that morning had done a number on Catelyn's stomach. While Gage was perhaps the best cook she had ever had the privilege to have, he was fond of using spices whenever he got them. She had heard tales of the cook using a good deal of his salary paying for spices. She couldn't quite put her finger on exactly what spice he had used but now she has to make a trip to the rookery. The Rookery is where Maester Luwin takes residence living with and tending Winterfell's ravens.

Yes, Catelyn thinks, the maester will knows what to do with this.

Catelyn can't help but admit that this day seems promising. The sun is shining extra brightly and the air feels a deal warmer. The only complaint is the rather thick mud that cover most of the bare ground. Ever since she first moved to Winterfell from Riverrun, Maester Luwin has been there for her. Cat even thinks of the kind elderly man as her best friend. At the Great Hall, Cat feels rather childish about feeling envious over Sansa's group of friends. Cat left all her friends back at home and never really connected with any of her handmaidens. Besides Ned, the elderly but able maester was her best friend.

As she passes through the yard, she notices Robb and his flock at the armory. Robb seems to be in deep conversation with Jory Cassel. Even from this distance, Robb's bright blue eyes are visible. Catelyn thinks that with dull red hair and blue eyes that Robb almost looks like her brother Edmure when he was young. Almost.

Leaving the boys to their conversation, Catelyn picks up her pace and quickly reaches the Rookery. The smell of feathers and bird shift fills up her nose. But another more soothing smell is there too. She can't place it, but it helps with the other smells.

Maester Luwin is hunched over his table reading a scroll by the window.

"Good news, I hope," says Catelyn.

The maester looks up at her and smiles wanly.

"Bittersweet news my lady," he says," this raven came from the Citadel."

This detail catches Catelyn's attention. She beckons for the scroll and Maester Luwin hands it to her.

To Maester Luwin of Winterfell,

Recent events from around the world, but mostly up north, have lead to the sending of this raven. Please heed this and relay it to Lord and Lady Stark

The first hints of autumn are showing. It is advised that The Lord and Lady of Winterfell start preparations for the oncoming winter. This summer has lasted for more than 10 years. This winter could last longer than that. We here pray to both the old gods and the new for a quick and short winter but signs look grim

The Conclave of Oldtown.

"Dark wings, dark words," muttered Catelyn. The North seemed to have grown on her.

"It would certainly appear so, my lady," said the maester softly.

Catelyn pushed the scroll up one of her sleeves.

"I'll make sure Ned sees this," she said," Maester, you wouldn't happen to have anything for a upset stomach?"

The maester look at the shelf that stood by the window. He opened some drawers and pulled out a vial of a crushed orange powder. He also pulls out a cup and fills it with wine from a crude glass bottle.

"Drink this ginger with this wine and that should do the trick, my lady."

Thanking the maester, Catelyn gathered her skirts and left the man to his studies.

Returning once again to the mud, Catelyn was suddenly rammed into by Robb. While she maintained her balance, Robb ended up in the mud.

He looks at her, clothes muddied, tears streaming down his dirty, bruised face. His blue eyes red.

Catelyn helped him up and bent down and her hands on her baby boy's shoulders.

"Robb dear, Tell me what's wrong."

Robb wiped his nose on his sleeve.

"I-It's Jon," he stuttered.

Immediately thoughts, terrible thoughts went through Catelyn's head.

"What did that boy do to you," the harshness in her voice was not lost on Robb.

The boy began to tell her the story in fits of sobbing. When he was finished, Catelyn couldn't really see why he was so tore up about it.

"Robb, go see Maester Luwin for your bruises and forget this silly business with Jon."

She could see hurt was still in her baby's eyes but he went dutifully into the rookery behind her. Catelyn dusted of her skirts the best she could and went on her way towards the Great Hall.

Ned would always see to the needs of his smallfolk before anything else. Catelyn was so focused on her thoughts that she almost didn't see that the door to the sept was slightly open. Her curiosity peaked as she pushed back the heavy doors.

The smell of wood and incense filled her nose as her eyes grew accustomed to the relative dark and dank of the sept. As she moved quietly towards the front of the room she noticed someone kneeling in front of the miniature statue of the Mother. It wasn't Septon Chayle, in fact he wasn't even in the room. All covered in black Jon Snow was on the ground crying in heavy sobs.

Her maternal instincts stirred inside her and for once, Catelyn saw Jon for who he truly was. A boy, desperate for approval from someone who hates him. A boy with big dreams who is constantly reminded of how impossible they are. Jon was not a wolf, he was snow. Cold, distant, removed, and gone too soon.

Catelyn went carefully on her knees and sat there looking at him. Jon noticed her then and immediately stood up, furiously wiping the tears away.

"My lady," he said.

Catelyn got up and sat down on the wooden bench behind her.

"Jon sit down," she said altogether warmly, patting beside her.

Jon sat down eyeing her with eyes red and brimming with suspicion.

And for the first and only time in her life, Catelyn hugged him.

She felt him tense but not pull away. Instead, he slowly melted in her arms and buried his face deep in her furs. After a while she pulled him alway and with her hands on his shoulder said

"Jon , you will never be mine, and I may not always be nice to you, but know this: I have no doubt at all that one day you will do great things in your life."

Jon looked at her. Confusion on her words filled his face. Catelyn just smiled at him.

"Go on and find Robb, he has something he wants to tell you."

Jon left the sept and closed the door when he did.

Catelyn just sat there, quietly enjoying the peacefulness before the world outside drove the feelings away.


End file.
